CHAPTER TWENTY–TWO
Some part of my brain processed the sound of the door opening in the morning, but I figured it was Blair, and I mentally checked off the concerns I should have with that, and Jordan and I were mostly dressed, on top of the covers, and not touching any of the “no zones.” I wasn’t too worried, and I let my brain begin to drift back to sleep.
That is, until I heard the sound of Coach Bentley coughing loudly. I peeled my eyes open and was met with the very shocked faces of Stacey, Bentley, and Nina Jones.
“Oh shit,” Jordan mumbled after lifting his head.
I had been curled up against him, his arms around me and my leg slung over his body. And he was shirtless. Just jeans.
We jumped apart and Jordan hung his head over the side of the bed, snatching his shirt from the floor. He had it on in record time and I’d pulled mine down because it had crept up during the night. My eyes zoomed in on the clock behind Stacey. It was only six thirty. We didn’t need to be at the arena until ten.
“What…” Nina stuttered, pointing a finger at Jordan. “Who…?”
That’s when I saw the two clear plastic cups Nina was holding in her left hand—random drug testing.
Stacey opened her mouth to answer and closed it after exchanging looks with Bentley.
My coach sighed and looked away from me and right at Nina. “This is my son, Jordan. Jordan, Nina Jones, National Team coordinator.”
Jordan sat near the end of the bed, wide–eyed and looking nearly as panicked as I felt. “Uh…hey…”
“Henry, you allow your son to sleep in hotel rooms with underage girls?” Nina snapped at Bentley.
“No,” Stacey said right away.
“First of all,” Bentley said, still speaking directly to Nina. “They’re both underage, and second, I had no idea he was here in Chicago. He’s supposed to be in school today. In St. Louis.”
Now Bentley turned to Jordan, and Jordan spoke up, but there wasn’t much to say except, “I’m sorry.”
“Yes, but why was I not aware that your son was having…” Nina waved her hand dramatically in the air. “…relations with one of my gymnasts.”
I am not her gymnast.
“We had no idea,” Stacey said, trying to somehow remedy this situation.
I was just now beginning to fight the urge to laugh. This was exactly everything Jordan and I had been trying to avoid.
“Actually,” Bentley said. “I had an idea. Just wasn’t sure if it was present or future.”
I felt my face heat up even more…He knew? How? Jordan looked just as surprised by that as me. He stood up and straightened his clothes.
“I think I should probably go,” Jordan said. “Unless you need me to take one of those drug tests…?”
Nina glared at him, a mixture of fury and disgust on her face.
Bentley opened his wallet. He handed Jordan a room key. “Wait for me in my room. We have things to discuss.”
Jordan took the key with a long sigh and then gave me one last fleeting look before taking off. I sat there staring at the three of them, having no idea what to do or say.
Nina tossed her hands in the air. “That’s just great, Henry! Exactly what we need. A pregnant teen on the National Team. Might as well add a teen with an STD while we’re at it. That’ll bring on a whole new set of endorsement opportunities.”
My mouth fell open and I was sure I looked completely horrified. I hadn’t expected her to go there. I was fully clothed, after all. And Jordan still had jeans on. I wasn’t an expert on the subject, but I was pretty sure you had to take your pants off to get pregnant.
Stacey walked over and rested a hand on my arm. “Karen is smart and responsible. She’s never done anything to disprove that.”
“You mean besides having a boy sleep in her hotel room during a National Team training camp,” Nina snapped.
Bentley surprised me by rolling his eyes. “Karen’s seventeen. She’s not a child. I think you’re overreacting a bit. I’ll talk to Jordan. He won’t be sharing any more hotel rooms on USA Gymnastics’ dollar. I’ll have him pay back the cost out of his next check at the gym. Now, Karen has a competition to focus on, so if we could just let her do that…”
Nina stared at him for a long time, and I could see the wheels churning in her head. She couldn’t really use it against me. Maybe if I performed poorly today, but if that happened it wouldn’t matter what she blamed. She finally set the plastic cups on the dresser, turned around, and left without saying a word. Somehow I had gotten around the rule where a non–personal coach had to actually watch me pee in the cup.
The second the door closed, Stacey spun around to face Bentley. “You knew about this! And you didn’t think it was important to tell me?”
His arms folded over his chest. “I wasn’t sure. Until now.”
“Karen, I think we should have a talk,” Stacey said, then turned to Bentley again. “And you should have a talk with Jordan.”
“Jordan and I had that talk years ago.”
“Well, obviously it didn’t work!” Stacey said.
“Wait…which talk are you referring to?” Bentley asked.
Stacey let out frustrated breath, shaking her blond hair off her face. “The abstinence talk!”
“I had the safe sex talk with Jordan.” Bentley shrugged. “I thought only religious people gave the abstinence talk.”
“God, this is a nightmare.” I covered my face with my hands. “We aren’t…we didn’t…ugh!” I dropped my hands. “It’s not like that. Nothing to worry about, okay?”
“Good,” Stacey said, looking like she might actually believe me. “And just in case you haven’t thought it all out, I’ll be staying in here tonight. With Olivia. A night with a screaming baby should be very effective birth control for you.”
Great.
“Can I take my drug test now?” I pleaded.
“Fine,” Stacey said. “Be in Stevie and Ellen’s room in twenty minutes. I’m fixing everyone’s hair.”
***
I had no idea what to say to Bentley all during our team breakfast (which was so awkward because my teammates had heard about Jordan and yeah…) and the ride to the arena was nearly silent. I got through five more songs on Jordan’s playlist and loved it so much I was wondering where he was at the moment and if Bentley had been totally pissed off at him. He might have been calm for Nina and even Stacey, but that was probably just to keep himself from looking like he didn’t know what was going on with his gymnasts and his kid.
He sat next to me while I stretched before timed warm–ups began. “You’re making me nervous, Karen. I have no idea which version of you we’re going to see today.”
My face flamed again and I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “I just don’t know what to say. I mean…”
“You mean about Jordan?” He scooted closer, his blue warm–up pants crinkling in the process. He was decked out in his coach’s polo and official gym shoes, badge around his neck. It didn’t seem like we should be talking about me and Jordan at the moment, but it would just become this elephant that would keep growing bigger if we didn’t.
“Yeah, about Jordan,” I said.
“I’m not thrilled, considering the living arrangements, but I trust him and I trust you.” He smiled a little. “I probably trust you a tad more than Jordan. But mostly I’m glad that you have people like Jordan and Blair and Stevie in your life. You need them right now.”
“Jordan said you would kill him if you found out,” I admitted.
“I still haven’t ruled it out,” he said, grinning. “And I’m not looking forward to the breakup that is almost inevitable…” He paused for a second, thinking. “Although, I met Anna when I was Jordan’s age.”
“How did you meet her?” I had to ask. Even if just to tell Jordan later on, because I wasn’t sure he knew the answer either.
“Physical therapy,” Bentley said. “I was training for the summer in New York and she was at Juilliard. I blew out my knee and she battled with carpal tunnel syndrome.”
“From the cello?” I asked, feeling myself smile. “And then what?”
“I went back home to Chicago, started at Ohio State that fall, and she came to visit me and I went to visit her. We were barely twenty when she got pregnant with Eloise. Her parents were not happy. But we were.” He nodded to himself, wrapping his arms around his knees. “We were happy. My parents were more relaxed about everything. They threw us a very casual wedding, and honestly, we had no money, no insurance. My career prospects depended on my body holding up, and music wasn’t exactly the most reliable career either. But Eloise came along and she was so perfect.”
I was already wiping the corner of my eyes, hoping that I wasn’t going to make my coach cry, too. I’d already caused him all kinds of issues this past week.
“Sometimes bad things happen at the worst time,” Bentley said. “But somehow, good things can come out of it. I don’t think kids your age should have babies or go without health insurance and get married at twenty, but it certainly isn’t the end of your life. And you learn as you go. That’s why Jordan’s birth was such a planned experience. Why struggle if you don’t have to? And I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson, too. I won’t ever have to worry about you stowing Jordan in your hotel room during training camp, right?”
“Right.” I looked up at him then, knowing that I had to do it. I had to ask him. “I need you to tell me something.”
“Okay.”
I took a deep breath. “I need to know where you put them—Anna, Eloise, your parents. Jackie, my therapist, says everyone puts people they lose somewhere in order to go on, and I haven’t exactly done that because I don’t really believe in God and I can’t fool myself into any other theory like heaven or hell, believe me, I’ve tried.”
He glanced up at the ceiling, and I thought maybe he was finally succumbing to his emotions, and he might have been, but he pulled it together before looking at me again. “I think I put them inside me. I used to be just like Jordan—wild and daring. And Anna was so calculated and careful, and somehow, after she was gone, I became that way too. And Eloise was the kindest, most loving child I’d ever seen. She wanted to save everyone and everything and when I heard about your parents, I knew that I wanted to be the one to take care of you, and then I realized that I had some of her in me, too.” He tapped my knee and smiled. “And you and your detective work, I’d say you’ve got a little of your dad in you. And the way you worry about Jordan, it’s a lot like your mom worried about you.”
“And Jordan and his music,” I said, thinking aloud. I tried to wipe my eyes and nose on my warm–up jacket, but then a smudge of black mascara on my sleeve stopped me from finishing the job. Bentley reached over and rubbed his thumbs under both of my eyes.
“Thanks for telling me,” I said and he nodded. “I think I’m going to sign those papers. Sell my house. But I don’t want the money. I’m still angry about it, and even if I wasn’t, I don’t want to get paid because my parents were irresponsible one night. I think giving it away will make me feel better about it.”
“That’s completely understandable,” Bentley said, nodding.
“And I want you to use the money and pay Jordan’s tuition to Stanford,” I said quickly, knowing I’d never come up with a better use for that unwanted cash.
He shook his head. “That’s amazing of you to think about him, but we’ll figure it out.”
I stood up and glanced around at the arena, watching it begin to fill with people. “He wants to go more than anything, and he’s never going to say that, you know he won’t. He wants to go and I want to give my money away. What’s the problem?”
Bentley stood up beside me and dusted off his pants. “We can talk about this later. After the meet.”
“I’ll tell you what…” I stared out at the uneven bars. “You wanted to know which Karen you’ll see today, so here’s the deal. I hit my routines and make the Pan Am team and you let me use my money to pay his tuition, and we both promise to never tell him.”
Bentley focused on the bars, too, arms crossed, forehead wrinkled.
“Come on,” I pleaded. “You know you want to prove to Nina that your girls know how to do handstands and all that crap you need me to do today.”
He glanced at me again. “I can’t do this. It’s not right.”
“It’s just money, Coach. Car accidents and terrorist attacks—those are things that can destroy your future. But not having enough money? That’s a problem we can get around.”
He exhaled, giving away his concession. “It’s a deal if you place in the top three.”
I felt like jumping up and down, and then nerves hit me because I had to keep my end of the deal. And that was no easy feat. “We’re getting this in writing. I’ll draft a contract between events.”
He shook his head and gave me a shove toward the vault. “Like I said, lawyer in the making.”
***
After timed warm–ups, my three teammates and I were lined up in the arena hallway, now wearing our new blue and black long–sleeved leotards, when I got a text.
JORDAN: I’m in section A, row G, seat 5. Love you and good luck
I smiled at my phone before tucking it away. So, Bentley had let him stay. Even got him a ticket. Or else he did it without permission. Either way, I wasn’t complaining at all. I wanted him here.
“Feeling good today, Karen?” Stevie asked from behind me. “I’m not going to take less than a real fight from you.”
I turned around and smiled at her. “Very good. In fact, you should be worried.”
I could practically hear her smiling, even over all the applause as we entered. My stomach filled with butterflies. I was too nervous to look for Jordan in his seat. It was enough to know he was watching. After the teams were introduced, the national anthem was played. My eyes swept the stands, and instead of feeling empty, knowing my parents weren’t actually there this time—the last time I’d competed they’d been in the stands—I felt them somehow. I didn’t know if it was a weird spiritual awakening. I didn’t feel the urge to pray or worship anything, but I felt them here.
Blair reached out and grasped my hand, squeezing it gently. I blinked away more tears, hoping that my eyes wouldn’t end up black. Maybe they weren’t really here in any sense, but I could put them here. All those seats and faces I couldn’t make out. It might as well be my mom and dad.
I squeezed her hand back, remembering that I wanted to prove a lot of things to a lot of people today. But maybe I just needed to start with me.
Unlike yesterday, the four of us got to rotate together as a team, along with eight other girls. I watched my three teammates land their vaults with no problems; even Stevie had a slightly smaller step than yesterday. Before my turn, Bentley came up behind me and whispered, “You’re doing an Amanar today.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway.
“You were right earlier, Karen. I do want to prove to Nina that my girls are the best,” he said. “But even more than that, what you can do, Karen, it’s amazing, and I want everybody to see it. That’s what I’ve been looking forward to most in Chicago.”
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and feeling his hands drop from my shoulders. “Don’t forget chalk,” he whispered before walking away.
I re–dipped my hands into the chalk bin and mentally went through the vault, trying my best to think of what Bentley had told me about sticking.
Relax. Sink into the floor.
As I flew through the air and my feet approached the mat, the panic reaction hit just for a second, that urge to step or hop forward, but I let all the air whoosh out of my lungs, and my feet did not move. I could hear my teammates cheering from their seats off the podium.
It was the first time in my entire life that I’d ever stuck a forward landing vault. And Bentley knew that. So I think he must have been right about us speaking the same language, because when I turned around to see him, he just stared at me and I knew what to do. And that didn’t include letting the whole world know that I’d never stuck a landing like that before and that it might be a fluke.
I walked off the mat, not even smiling, and Bentley gave me a tiny nod, and when I was able to stand next him, I could see him smiling a little. “Nice job, Karen. Very nice.”
Ellen went first on bars, and she fell on her first release but hit the rest of the routine otherwise. I stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders while she cried and tried to stop crying. When it was my turn, I could see Nina from the corner of my eye, ready to take all the points for my missed handstands, and I made the decision to just go for it, fall or no fall.
I took every handstand right to the edge of tipping over, and I caught my layout Jaeger, completely stretched, by the very tips of my fingers. I had a tiny step on my double front dismount.
When I turned around to see Bentley’s reaction, he had a hand to his chest. After I made it back to the bench, he said, “You gave me a heart attack on those handstands. I think if Stacey had breathed a little harder from the other side, you would have fallen over.”
I grinned at him and loved the fact that he had made me do something that made him extremely nervous. Served him right. He should have to suffer a little for those extra turns he made me do.
Before beam, Stacey stood beside me, rubbing my arms, loosening me up. “Nina said I need to be more artistic. I’m not sure how to fix that today.”
“It just means energy,” she said. “That comes from somewhere other than your limbs.”
My beam routine was even better than the one I had done in Houston at the last camp, especially since I didn’t collapse into a panic attack this time, and I landed my tucked full with my chest higher. As soon as my feet hit the mat after my double pike, I saw Stacey, of all people, bawling her eyes out.
Stevie, Blair, Ellen, and I had no idea what to say. She made us huddle together and hug her and then she finally mumbled, “That’s the first time none of you have fallen off beam in a meet. I’m so proud. All four of you had bad feet and terrible leaps years ago. We’ve come a long way.”
I smiled down at the floor, not wanting to rain on Stacey’s moment by laughing. But it was pretty obvious she and I would never have the serious chat about philosophical aspects of life and death like I’d had with Bentley. Stacey was gymnastics. She was exactly like me before I lost my parents—a one–track gymnastics mind.
The only score I looked at all day was floor, since that was my last event, and it was the highest floor score I’d ever gotten. When they flashed the meet results, I ended up second and Stevie placed third. Ellen won the juniors and Blair was fifth. I’d fulfilled half of my deal with Bentley by placing second, but today’s scores were only a part of the Pan Am equation, and we had to wait for those results to be announced whenever the committee finished talking about us.
On my way to the bathroom, Jordan found me and picked me up, giving me a huge hug. “You were so awesome!”
“I’m so glad you didn’t go home,” I said into his neck.
“You’ve never stuck that vault before, have you?” he asked.
“No way. I almost fainted.”
“I think my dad did, too.” He set me down on the ground again and kissed me. “Go wherever you were headed before I get you in trouble again.”
He gave me a nudge in the direction of the arena, and when I returned to my teammates it was time for them to announce the Pan Am team.
Ellen’s name was announced first. Then Blair, which got a huge yelp from all of us. In fifth place, she’d been right on the bubble, taking that last spot. Then Stevie’s name was announced for the Senior Team, followed by three other girls. I held my breath and crossed all my fingers behind my back. And then Nina Jones herself spoke into the microphone and said my name.
Karen Campbell.
When I walked up to get my flowers and plaque, I heard Nina announce Bentley as the Team USA coach for the senior girls. Even though it was more Coach Cordes’s style to give the giant bear hugs, I got one from Bentley today. And then he said, right into my ear, so only I could hear, “It’s just the beginning, Karen.”
The beginning. I like that.
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Acknowledgements
I just want to take a moment to thank all the readers who picked up this book; Letters to Nowhere is truly the book of my heart and it means so much to me that readers are willing to go on this journey with me. Thanks to those who followed me from the Tempest series all the way into the depths of a contemporary story, very much lacking in time travel and hand-to-hand combat.
A special thanks to all my early beta readers (would love to name each of you but I’m determined to keep this short) who read and supported Karen’s story long before I had any idea what to do with this book. I value each and every one of you for your time and your feedback. I hope you see bits of your efforts sprinkled throughout this manuscript.
Thanks to the amazing, intelligent and meticulous efforts of my copyeditor and proof reader. Also thanks to the gymnastics community for being some of the most passionate and dedicated people in the entire world.
About the author
Julie Cross is the International Bestselling author of the Tempest series, a young adult science fiction trilogy which includes Tempest, Vortex, and the final installment, Timestorm (St. Martin’s Press). She’s also the author of Letters to Nowhere (8/13), a mature young adult romance set in the world of elite gymnastics, as well as several forthcoming young adult and new adult novels with publishers like Entangled, Sourcebooks, HarperCollins, and St. Martin’s Press/Thomas Dunne Books.
Julie lives in Central Illinois with her husband and three children. She’s a former gymnast, longtime gymnastics fan, coach, and former Gymnastics Program Director with the YMCA.
Description
From the International Bestselling Author of the Tempest series
A Mature YA contemporary set in the tough world of Elite Gymnastics.
Her family may be shattered, but her dreams aren’t…
Seventeen year old Karen Campbell has just lost both her parents in a tragic car accident. Grief stricken and alone, her gymnastics coach opens his home to Karen, providing her a place to live while she continues to train, working toward a spot on the world championship team.
Coach Bentley’s only child, seventeen year old Jordan is good-looking and charming enough to scare away a girl like Karen—someone who has spent ten times more hours on balance beams and uneven bars than talking or even thinking about boys. But the two teens share a special connection almost immediately. It turns out Jordan has a tragic past of his own, grief buried for years.
As Karen’s gymnastics career soars, her nightmares and visions of the horrible accident grow in strength. She can only avoid facing her grief for so long before it begins to surface and ultimately spin out of control in a very dangerous way. Can discovering love and lust (simultaneously) help with the grieving process or will it only provide a temporary distraction while waiting for reality to hit full force?
EDITORIAL REVIEWS
“Poignant and emotionally-charged, Letters to Nowhere is about the befores and afters that color our daily lives.”–Sophia Bleu, author of Catching Liam
“Letters to Nowhere is a beautiful story filled to the brim with hope, growth, and the magic of teenage relationships that will blow readers away.”–The Book Cellar
“That perfect mix of sweet and emotional, Letters to Nowhere had me hooked. I love Karen and Jordan so much!”–A Good Addiction